


take my hand and wish the hurt away

by skywideopen



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 6x10 AU, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Wishverse, a little violence, a lot of blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 14:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9552101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywideopen/pseuds/skywideopen
Summary: “And how do you suggest we get home, then?” Regina asks, snapping a little—great, Regina is freaking out a little too. “Or is your plan to let me bleed out here on the forest floor?”“Hey—that isn’t happening, alright?” Even if Emma has to fight all the armies of the kingdom herself, that isnot happening. Though she’d really rather not have to do that, particularly because it probably wouldn’t work. It’s why she hasn’t just teleported them both back to the lake. “We’ll get you home, I just—I’ll think of something.”“Well, think quickly.”[Written for Swan Queen Week Day 5. In the Wishverse, Henry is out for blood, Regina is hurt and Emma can't get them home.]





	

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been kind of bouncing around my head for a while, but alas I am extremely busy so I can only upload the first chapter right now. The rest should come in the next few weeks.
> 
> Thanks to Laura and Mere for the help, you guys are the best <3

The first really major obstacle they face is when they stumble upon a group of ogres still miles away from the lake. They’re just as smelly, ugly and—more to the point— _massive_ as Emma remembers them, and there are three of them here in this hidden valley. So much for _hidden valley where no one could find them_ , in Regina’s words.

It’s enough to make her briefly concerned; she’d had enough trouble with just _one_ back then, and this lot seem to have a taste for _princess_ , but she has magic now. And she has Regina.

“Well. That was easy,” she opines, lowering her hands as the last of the ogres disintegrates into a million speckles of ash. Regina rolls her eyes at Emma’s bravado, smiles a little.

“Magic makes things simple,” Regina explains. “Your mother probably never told you, but there were never any ogre attacks when I ruled the kingdom. The peasants might have all hated me, but I was the only monster they ever had to worry about.”

Emma winces a little—she never knows quite how to deal with Regina casually calling herself a _monster_ like she often does these days, but at least she’d used the past tense, and Regina looks relaxed enough.

“Yeah, well, my mom does a pretty good job. No wars to fight, you know,” she adds casually, then notices that Regina’s expression has frozen in place. _Shit._ “Regina—come on, you know what I meant.”

There’s a fairly awful second where Regina’s expression remains fixed in that stomach-clenching mixture of surprise, guilt and pain—but it passes, and she gives a small smile. A slightly brittle one, but enough to let Emma breathe again.

“I’m sure she did. Now, if we keep going down this path, we should find—”

_Whoosh._

Emma ducks by instinct—and so does Regina. Good thing too, because the arrow would have nailed her directly between the eyes if she hadn’t. As it is, Regina is unharmed and crouched on the forest floor, looking around frantically for the bowman—then she must spot him, because her eyes go completely wide and her mouth hangs slightly open in shock, her hands fall limply to her sides.

Emma looks behind her quickly, but she can’t see what Regina has seen—she has more important things to worry about. Like the fact that Regina has, apparently, completely taken leave of her senses.

“Regina.” She tugs on the sleeve of Regina’s coat, but gets no response. “ _Regina!”_

The next time she tugs hard enough that Regina is physically pulled from her semi-catatonia, stumbling behind Emma just as the next arrow whistles through the spot she’d just vacated. Emma spins around, and _this_ time she sees who Regina is staring at.

 _Oh, shit._ “Henry?”

“Step aside, mom,” Henry barks out grimly, advancing on the two of them with another arrow already resting on his fist and the bowstring drawn back. “I’m here to save you.”

Regina is still standing _absolutely still_ behind her, which is really not helpful when Emma could use a hand—“Kid, you don’t get it. Regina isn’t who you think she is, she’s a friend—”

Henry’s bow-hand trembles and his brow creases, but the thoroughly murderous glint doesn’t leave his eyes. “Kid? Who’s ‘kid’?”

She winces— _different world_ , she berates herself. That’s the problem with dreams: they start fading the moment you wake up. “I mean— _Henry—_ ”

“You’ve never called me _kid_ before.” He raises his bow, so the arrow is pointing directly at her head. She gulps a little. “What did she do to you, mom? Some kind of spell?”

 _Fuck, fuck._ This is all going really, really wrong and they _still_ haven’t reached the lake. “ _No,_ Henry, just—listen. I’m not gonna let you hurt Regina, okay? So just—please, just back off.”

His hand trembles on the string for a few seconds more, aiming at Regina with Emma standing in between. For a truly terrifying moment Emma is genuinely worried that his fingers will slip and the arrow will loose—but he relents, lowers the bow at last, grimaces.

“This isn’t over,” he snarls out—at Regina, Emma knows. “You _will_ pay for everything you’ve done, Regina, I swear!”

At hearing her name, Regina stirs at last.

“Henry…” she murmurs, barely loud enough for Henry to hear, but Henry is already gone, vanishing between the trees as stealthily as he’d arrived.

 

* * *

 

“Alright, Regina. What the hell was that back there?”

They’ve spent the last half-hour basically running for their lives—Henry will have his newly-minted personal guard nearby, she knows, and they really, _really_ have to get to the lake and out of this world as soon as possible. They don’t know how much further they can go, but Emma can’t go any further without taking a breather, so they do so in a small clearing, Emma all but collapsing onto a fallen log.

It also gives a moment to confront Regina about what the _hell_ had happened back there with Henry. Regina runs a hand through her hair, laughs bitterly between heaving breaths.

“I killed his grandparents, he wants to take his revenge and kill me. It’s not really complicated, Emma.”

“ _Regina._ You know that wasn’t real. You _said_ it wasn’t real, it’s all just a dream.”

“Tell that to his arrows and sword.”

Emma has no real answer to that.

In any case, it should all be immaterial once they reach the lake, so they soon continue on. After all, this world only exists as a product of Emma’s imagination, her secret desire for _security_ and _peace_ and a break from the endless exhaustion which characterises her life, and it’ll cease to exist once she’s gone. They just need to get to the lake, take Regina’s pre-arranged ride home and all will be well.

An hour later, they finally reach the lakeside, and Emma does a little whoop as she sees the glimmering water. Regina rolls her eyes a little— _why_ does Regina always have to tease her like so, _why—_ but she too is smiling broadly as they emerge from the treeline and onto the beach.

“So what now?” Emma asks, as Regina leans against a boulder. “Have you got a bean or something?”

“Soon. Just wait.”

Emma does, but five minutes turns into ten into twenty, and Emma is getting increasingly agitated. “Regina, what are we—”

“Just _wait,_ ” Regina says again, though she too is looking nervous. “I really don’t know what’s taking him so long.”

“Who?”

Regina’s eyes flick up, a little wide. “Oh—I cut a deal with the Dark One, I let him out of his cage for a ticket home.”

Emma stares at her, mildly outraged. “ _Regina!_ What if he’s razing villages or something—”

“He won’t be razing any villages today,” a clear, sharp voice suddenly calls out— _Henry._ Emma spins around to see Henry and Rumple standing right behind them, having simply _appeared_. “And neither will you, _your Majesty._ ”

Regina swallows visibly, but rounds on the Dark One. “We had a _deal,_ Rumple.”

Rumple’s smile is twisted and mirthless. “We did. And I’m keeping my end of the bargain.” He holds up a little glass jar, containing a little magic bean within, and places it on a boulder next to him. Regina raises her arm and flicks her finger, presumably to take the bean by magic—but nothing happens but for a thin spurt of purple smoke.

“What the hell—”

“A spell on this whole beach to block the Evil Queen’s magic,” Rumple explains, devious as ever. “Sorry. Part of the _deal_.”

“There was nothing about—”

“Ah, ah,” he interjects, waggling his finger and striking Regina dumb. “Not _your_ deal. Rather, your son’s—or, should I say, the _princess’s_ son.”

Regina looks stunned, and Emma edges closer to her, increasingly suspecting that however this standoff ends, it won’t be with them jumping through a portal. “Regina—”

“Henry,” Regina blurts out suddenly, apparently finding her voice again. “Sweetheart, please—”

“Don’t you dare _speak_ to me,” Henry spits out, and Regina falls silent again. “This is your end. Guards!”

Out of nowhere, three men wielding enormous, glittering swords have blossomed from red smoke billowing out of nowhere, all of them aiming some sort of deadly stroke at Regina, and Emma moves.

She’s never used magic quite like this before, with this much speed and this much precision and this much _urgency_ because she needs to _save Regina._ In theory it’s easy enough, as Rumple is simply sitting on a boulder and watching the scene with amused interest, meaning it’s just two of them against four, and _they_ have magic—or it would be, if it were actually _two._

“Regina,” Emma calls out as she fights one of the soldiers with the sword she’d brought all this way—neither she nor her assailant are particularly into the fight, both being overly concerned about not actually hurting the other but rather merely trying to get past. “Regina, what are you doing?”

What Regina is doing seems to be _nothing—_ at least, nothing particularly active. Oh, sure, she’s teleporting all over the place and casting various spells to make Emma’s life easier as she works her way closer to Rumple, but Emma doesn’t even bother to feel grateful for it— _she_ isn’t the one in danger here, damnit, why isn’t Regina bothering to protect herself?

Whatever the reason, Regina’s lack of self-preservation is evident as her next teleport places her right next to the glass jar—and also right next to Henry and his sword. She doesn’t even seem to notice him next to her, though, reaching out for the bean even as he swings his sword viciously at her midsection, threatening to slice her clean in two—

“Regina!” Without so much as conscious thought, Emma shoves her attacker away and sends out a magical blast at Henry’s sword. It lands just in the nick of time, knocking it out of his hand just as it seems to disappear into Regina’s coat, and sending it spinning and landing about twenty feet away.

Unfortunately, the blast is too powerful—Emma isn’t one for fine control over her magic—and it knocks the magic bean away too, shattering the glass jar and sending the tiny green bean to hide somewhere amongst the sand and rocks.

“Emma!” Regina spins around as if she’d been electrocuted, and she glares at Emma. “What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?”

“Saving your life! If you don’t mind— _look out!_ ”

Henry, of course, hadn’t been idle, and this time he’d pulled out a knife from his hip, and is about to bury it in Regina’s chest when Emma lets out another stream of light from her hands. This one hits Henry’s armor square in the chestplate and sends him flying into the air.

“ _No!_ ” Regina immediately reaches out with her arm, presumably to cast some spell of her own—but her magic is still blocked, so the end result is that Henry is sent tumbling into the rocks. “Emma, you _idiot,_ what the _hell—_ ”

She never finishes the sentence, though, because the other three are charging at her with swordpoint, and Emma has had enough. She closes her eyes, squeezing them tightly shut as she concentrates with all her might on what she needs to do, _where they need to be—_ then there’s a brief sparkle of pain in her ears and silence in the air as the teleportation spell takes effect.

She opens her eyes, breathes out a sigh of relief—then yells in alarm as Regina grabs her by the shoulder, slams her against a tree.

“What the _fuck_ was that, Emma?” she spits out, her eyes wild and half-crazed with fury—and okay, Regina isn’t any sort of evil any more, but it’s kind of scary. “We _don’t_ hurt Henry, _ever!_ ”

“He’s not _real_ , Regina!” Emma shouts back, pushing Regina off her roughly. Regina is still snarling, her coat torn in a few places and her face pale with rage, but Emma stands her ground. “None of this is real! The only bit about this that _would_ be real is if Henry _kills you_ , so yeah, I did what I had to do.”

“You could have seriously injured our son—”

“ _You could have been killed!”_ Emma yells right over her, heat rushing to her cheeks. “So yeah, sorry about saving your fucking life, especially since _you_ don’t seem interested in it.”

Regina’s expression has cooled a little as Emma’s logic percolates, but she still looks furious. “You still shouldn’t have hurt Henry. We don’t do that. _Ever._ ”

And yes, Regina is right, but—“I did what I had to, alright? I probably wouldn’t have had to if you had bothered to _help_ and _protect yourself_ from the guys trying to _kill you—_ ”

At that, Regina turns on her heel and marches away. Emma lets out an infinitely frustrated huff and stomps after her, trying to catch up—but Regina, petulant as ever, speeds up her pace.

“Regina. _Regina._ Where are you going?”

“The lake,” Regina calls out over her shoulder, not even breaking stride. “To find the magic bean which _you_ almost destroyed, thank you very much.”

Emma rolls her eyes, gesticulates at thin air. God, Regina is _infuriating_ sometimes _._ “I was just trying to—”

“You were saving my life, I know, I know,” Regina says. She abruptly stops in her tracks, and Emma does the same, unsure as to what Regina will come up with next—”Thank you, by the way.”

Despite herself, Emma smiles.

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, Emma’s emergency escape manoeuvre hadn’t been especially precise—she’d been more worried about the _leaving_ part than the _arriving_ part—which means they have more or less no idea where they are. That means that Emma isn’t worried about running into Henry or soldiers again, but it also means that she has not the slightest clue how to get back to the lake.

“And here I was thinking you were princess of this realm,” Regina remarks sardonically. “You don’t know where we are?”

Emma shrugs, looks down at her feet. “No, I—uh, didn’t get out very much,” she mumbles. “I was a princess! I didn’t need to _walk._ ”

But Regina just laughs, relieving the tension, and Emma is grateful for that, at least. There’s something tired-sounding about that laugh, though, and Emma frowns a little.

“Do _you_ know where we are, though?” If it’s far, then she think it’s best they have a rest, which they all very much need.

“Of course. I ruled this place on my own for years, I had to know every inch of it.”

“Fair enough. So how far are we from the lake?”

“Not far, thankfully.”

Even so, after another twenty minutes Emma’s feet are starting to feel quite sore—these boots weren’t made for forest walking, and she’s been doing a _lot_ of that in the last day—and, more notably, Regina’s pace is starting to slow, her hands drifting constantly to her hips.

“Regina, you sure you don’t want to take a break?”

“I’m fine,” Regina says shortly. Emma watches her closely, and notes with concern how her footfalls are starting to become less even, but she lets it go.

Fifteen minutes later, she’s all but had enough with _letting it go_ as Regina is starting to stagger forwards like she’s had way too many drinks, when Regina speaks again.

“We should take Henry for a vacation,” she says out of nowhere. She _definitely_ sounds tired now, her words slurred like she hasn’t slept in days, and Emma frowns at her.

“Yeah?” Emma speeds up a little so she’s walking aside her—it’s not hard, as Regina isn’t walking especially fast now.

“Yeah. Once we’ve beaten the… the Queen. You, me, and Henry. We could go to Disneyland,” she says, smiling up at Emma, and Emma now notices that Regina’s face is now unnaturally pale and her eyes unfocussed.

“That’d be nice.” She composes a smile, puts her arm on Regina’s waist and slows them to a halt. “Regina, you okay?”

Regina nods, but she also frowns and tries to bat Emma’s hand away, but with absolutely no force or direction, Emma notes with alarm—which only increases tenfold as she suddenly realises the fingers on the hand around Regina’s waist are wet. “What the—oh, _fuck_.”

Her head goes dizzy and she feels like throwing up—there, on the tips of her fingers, the unmistakeable dark red gleam of blood. _Regina’s blood._

“ _Regina—_ ”

“I’m fine,” Regina insists, sounding like she’s had a bottle full of wine, and tries staggering forward again, but this time she stumbles on the first step and Emma catches her. She makes a sound of protest, but otherwise let Emma lower her slowly to the ground.

 _Fuck_ , Emma should have _known_ all the rips and tears on Regina’s coat had meant something. Why does Regina always insist on wearing _black_?

She swallows—she can’t panic now, _can’t panic._ “I’m gonna have to remove your coat, okay?”

“If you want to undress me, Miss Swan, you barely need to ask,” Regina jokes weakly, and Emma rolls her eyes—she doesn’t know whether to feel glad that Regina feels strong enough to make terrible jokes, or whether to be worried that she’s light-headed enough that she’s started _flirting._

Regina doesn’t say anything more, though, as Emma tentatively undoes the buttons of her coat—something she has, very secretly, visualised doing for a long time, but not like _this._ She swallows as she opens it up, notices the cuts and slices to the fabric—

“Oh _god_.” She opens it further—”Fuck, fuck.”

“That bad?”

“ _Regina._ Why didn’t you say something?”

The light blue silk of Regina’s blouse has been thoroughly soaked red in the region around Regina’s hip, and the fabric has been torn completely where the sword had cut right through Regina’s flesh—fuck, she’s still _bleeding._

“I didn’t notice it for a while, and my magic still isn’t working,” Regina says, and the exhaustion is now plain to hear. “So I was trying to get back to the lake as quickly as possible, get home and get to the hospital.”

Emma nods her understanding, swallows and positions her hands above the wound, calling upon her magic—but no response, no light, no _healing._ She tries again, puts more force into it this time, but once again there’s nothing.

“ _Damn it._ ”

“Rumple most likely magic-proofed the sword,” Regina explains. “Magic won’t work on this.”

Hot bile is rising up Emma’s throat, she’s on the verge of throwing up— _okay. Okay._ She can do this, it’s just a cut, she _won’t panic._ “Hang on.”

Without the slightest regard for modesty, she opens up and peels off Regina’s shirt, rips off a sleeve of her coat with magic, then wraps it around Regina’s waist like a makeshift dressing, pulls it as tight as she can even as Regina whimpers a little with pain. “Shh—it’s okay. It’s just a cut, you’ll be right in no time.”

“Hell of a cut,” Regina says, wincing as she tries to push herself up on her hands—but Emma pushes her straight back down, ignoring the noise of protest Regina makes.

“Woah, no. You’ve lost a lot of blood, you’re not moving anywhere for a while.”

Regina tries to glare, but her eyes are unfocused and Emma knows she’s on the verge of passing out. Emma covers her with the coat—the shirt is completely ruined, of course, and Emma would rather not look at bloodstains for the rest of the afternoon. “But…”

“Everyone will hold the fort back home, and you’re no help to anyone if you can’t be up and about. Besides, the Queen won’t be doing anything any time soon if you’re like this,” she points out.

Regina relaxes at last, settles on her back. Emma nudges her slightly so she’s lying more comfortably in a small hollow made by tree-roots.

“Fine. But just until I’m ready to walk.”

Emma sighs, unconsciously starts smoothing dark hair— _short_ dark hair, Regina cuts it so often these days—away from half-closed eyes. She bites her lip then bends down, brushes her lips across Regina’s forehead, smiling as Regina’s eyes flutter closed.

“Rest now, okay? I’ll take care of you, I promise,” she murmurs, and watches Regina fall asleep on her lap.

 

* * *

 

Regina sleeps fitfully through the afternoon and into the early evening, her face often troubled and her indecipherable murmurings almost constant. Her hand keeps unconsciously reaching towards her side, and Emma can tell that she’s in pain even in her dreams, whatever they might be. She does her best to reassure her in her rest, brushing slightly slick hair away from her face and just generally trying to hold and comfort her, but Regina’s sleep is hardly restful and it’s no surprise when she finally stirs.

“Hi,” Emma says softly as Regina’s eyes slowly flutter open. “How’re you feeling?”

“Ugh—tired,” Regina says slowly, wincing as consciousness returns more fully. “Hurts.”

Emma swallows, tries to hold down her fear—if Regina Mills, famously reckless and convinced of her own physical indestructability, is complaining about pain, then something is badly wrong. She needs proper medical attention, Emma knows, and soon—or, at a minimum, she has to get out of the forest and into a proper bed so someone can give her some stiches.

Regina’s eyes focus a little more, she frowns up at Emma. “You’re still here?”

Emma smiles as best she can. “Yeah. Where else would I be?”

“Trying to get us home, for one.”

Which is fair enough, but having seen how quickly Regina had deteriorated on their walk, and the image of her ripped shirt soaked through with her own blood—well, leaving never really crossed her mind. “You were in a really bad way there. I had to look out for you.”

“You’ll have a better time looking for me once we’re home— _ow,_ ” she suddenly exclaims, having tried to sit up. Emma pushes her back down, purses her lips.

“ _No,_ Regina— _stop,_ ” Emma orders firmly and yeah, okay, she’s freaking out a little. “Stay _still,_ okay?”

“And how do you suggest we get home, then?” Regina asks, snapping a little—great, _Regina_ is freaking out a little too. “Or is your plan to let me bleed out here on the forest floor?”

“ _Hey—_ that isn’t happening, alright?” Even if Emma has to fight all the armies of the kingdom herself, _that is not happening._ Though she’d really rather not have to do that, particularly because it probably wouldn’t work. It’s why she hasn’t just teleported them both back to the lake. “We’ll get you home, I just—I’ll think of something.”

“Well, think quickly.”

Emma sighs in frustration and looks around—they really are in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a clearing deep within a part of the forest which is clearly little visited, as the vegetation is thick around them and the paths are tenuous and rarely-traversed when they’re even there. It’s exactly the sort of place that makes it kind of impossible to know where they are—but also the kind of place where no one would think or even try to look…

“How about I go to the lake myself?” Emma asks suddenly, then sees the sudden panic on Regina’s face and adds quickly—“I mean, to find the bean. Then I can bring it back here, we can go home together.”

Regina raises an eyebrow, but there’s a little brightness in her eyes which suggests that, just maybe, Emma’s hit on a good idea. “And how would you get back?”

“Magic. I mean, I remember how to teleport now.”

“Took you long enough,” Regina quips, and Emma side-eyes her a little. “But—how would you know how to find me?”

It’s a good question, and Emma fully understands the querelous note, the shade of fear in Regina’s voice, but somehow she isn’t really worried about this. “I’d know,” she says simply, and something about the way she says it convinces Regina because she relaxes again, nods at Emma as she slowly extracts herself from under Regina’s head and stands up.

“Alright. Go on, then, your Majesty. Find that bean.”

Emma frowns. “Your Majesty?”

Regina smiles weakly up at her. “You’re the Queen now, remember? Congratulations.”

Emma doesn’t even want to _think_ about that yet—“I’ll be back before you know it,” she says softly instead, and vanishes within a cloud of silvery-white smoke.

 

* * *

 

Emma lands right on the beach by the lake, right in the middle of what looks like a small tent city. She barely has time to reorient herself and regain her bearings when the world around her explodes with sudden yelling.

“The Queen—the Queen is here!” one guard yells, and immediately raises her sword in alarm. She’s met by more alarms, horns, yellings and Emma is thinking she might have to just put that _fighting all the armies in the kindgom_ plan into action—

“Stop— _stop!_ That’s my  _mom!_ ”

She spins around just in time to see Henry rushing at her before he barrels into her, his heavy brass armour knocking the wind out of her as he wraps her in a crushing bear-hug. She closes her eyes and sinks into the embrace, rocks him from side to side—god, today has been so _weird_ but she won’t complain about getting hugs from her son. Even if he isn’t real.

“Mom,” he whispers against her ear. He might be a _knight_ and all grown up, but deep down he’s still her baby boy who’d she’d raised from birth—except she hadn’t, of course, because none of this is _real_. He suddenly breaks off the embrace, his eyes wide and horrified.

“Mom—you’re _bleeding_.”

She looks down at herself, notices for the first time that there are flecks of blood all over her previously-pristine coat and on her gloves. “Oh—it’s fine. It’s not my blood.”

“Are you sure? I thought Regina had taken you, was trying to hurt you..”

“Yeah, well, I’m back now,” she says, smiling to herself. “And, um—you don’t have to worry about Regina. She’s—this is her blood. She’s dead,” she lies, trying to ignore the sudden dizziness the words bring upon her. If she doesn’t find that bean, get Regina home soon…

“Really?”

She smiles at him, ruffles his hair. “Really. You must have gotten her just before we teleported away, she died a bit later on. You don’t have to worry about her any more.”

Henry stares at her, as if trying to detect any sign of coercion and lie—but he soon sighs out, smiling. “I’m really glad, mom,” he says softly and oh god, Emma feels _sick—_

She swallows, maintains her smile. “Me too, Henry. Now, listen—have you guys found a little green bean? The Evil Queen was looking for it before she died, and I’m thinking we should find it and put it away somewhere.”

Henry’s smile vanishes, and he frowns. He slowly shakes his head. “No. We’ve been looking all afternoon, but none of us have found anything. I think the Dark One took it.”

 _Fuck._ Of course he did. “You’re sure? You’ve checked?”

“Double- and triple-checked,” Henry replies. “We’re actually about to move out and go back to the castle—you’re coming with us, right? Your coronation is in a few hours!”

Emma does a double-take—so, Regina hadn’t been joking about her being _Queen_ after all. “Not with you guys, no. I need to go and—uh, go and bury the Queen, make sure she’s actually dead. But I’ll be back in time—I have magic now, apparently,” she adds, and internally sighs with relief when Henry’s face cracks into a smile. “So you don’t have to worry about the Dark One. I’ll take care of everyone when I’m Queen.”

He hugs her again, more warmly and less desperately than last time—which is good news for Emma, because those breastplates _hurt._ “Thanks, mom.”

She squeezes him briefly—uselessly, because of the armor, but she can’t help herself—and smooths down his hair. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

“Okay.”

She takes two steps back from him, smiling, before raising her hand and teleporting away. As she’d predicted, she lands right in the clearing where Regina is waiting, surrounded by the forest dark as the sun is now hanging low in the sky, but she doesn’t think about that for the moment—instead, she just collapses against the tree, starting blankly into nothingness. She feels so tired, _exhausted_ , by all the _lies_ she’d had to tell even while her best friend, _another_ person she cares so deeply for, had been waiting for her helplessly in the forest—

“Well?” Regina asks suddenly from her position, breaking her out of her reverie. She pushes herself up a little on her elbows, despite the clear cost in pain the effort induces. “Did you get the bean?”

Emma opens her mouth, closes it again, slowly shakes her head. “No. Rumple took it back.”

Something goes out in Regina’s eyes then and there, a little spark of light flicks off in her eyes—and suddenly, Emma feels like she’s falling, _falling—_ “Of course he did. Did you run into Henry?”

Emma swallows, nods. “He wanted me to go with him. Apparently my coronation is at the castle in a few hours. I told him I’d be back, but I—I had some stuff to attend to first.” God, she’s a coward, she can’t even _say it._

“Like what?” Regina asks, frowning in confusion. “I can’t imagine that he’d just let you _go_ , not with the _Evil Queen_ hanging around.”

She has to say it. _Has_ to. “Yeah, but I—I told him you were dead. That you’d bled out hours ago. And he—” she chokes, the first tears start to flow. “He was _happy_ , Regina. He told me he was _glad._ ”

A pause of one second, two seconds, in which there’s nothing but the sound of Emma sniffling quietly—and then Regina reaches up, pulls Emma down. “Oh, Emma.”

Emma settles her head in the crook of Regina’s neck, feels calm, warm hands brushing through her hair, and for a moment she forgets who here is supposed to be taking care of who.

 

* * *

 

She lies there, closing her eyes and savouring the feeling of Regina running her hands through her hair. In her position, she can hear the feel the gentle rise and fall of Regina’s chest, and it’s a comfort to her, a peace she treasures like nothing else to know that Regina is _still here._

But as time goes on, she can sense that the rhythm of Regina’s breathing is starting to get a little more erratic, weakening a little, and Emma knows how this ends. She’s _seen_ how this ends before; she’d gotten caught up with all sorts of unsavoury types and unpleasant situations back in her bail-bonds days. She knows what happens to people who are this hurt and don’t get medical attention, she’s seen all of good, bad and indifferent slowly fade away as time runs out.

If she’d just managed to find the bean, get Regina home and to the hospital… but no, that option seems gone from them now. Hell, even if she could just get Regina to a proper _bed_ and give her some stitches, stop the bleeding before she goes for her fake coronation—

She opens her eyes.

“Emma?” Regina asks drowsily, sensing Emma rousing. “What is it?”

She swallows, looks up at Regina’s face mere inches from her own—it’s almost completely dark, but Regina’s brown eyes still seem to gleam in the moonlight.

“I’ve got an idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> I would have thought of a better title, but I really really need to go for lunch *shrugs*


End file.
